A/N: This is a plot bunny that came to me one night. It kept nagging me, so I tried to write it. The premise is basically that Frex dies while Elphaba and Nessa are still children. It's probably not a very new idea but o well. Elphaba is about eight in this, almost nine and Nessa is about seven. Hope you all enjoy and don't forget to review!
~The Enchanted Broomstick
Was it wrong not to cry at your own father's funeral?
Elphaba had been pondering this question as the ceremony dragged on. She watched ministers pay their respects; political figures making pointless speeches about Frexpar Thropp's contributions to Oz, her little sister's hiccup-ridden sobs.
She watched the rain fall on the mahogany coffin, the droplets sliding off the glossy wood like tears.
Yet she didn't cry. Her face remained stoic.
Perhaps it was the shock of it, the fact that from that day on she would be an orphan, fending for herself amongst hundreds of other parent-less brats.
Then again, that's what she had been doing for most of her life anyway. He hadn't been much of a father, not to Elphaba anyway. Nessa got doted on, while the other Thropp sister was left in the shadows. Always wanting a hug, a smile any sort of small affection that would make her feel like she was worth something. Of course she never got it. Why would the Unnamed God give it to her? A child born of sin?
Then again she didn't believe in the Unnamed God anyway. She was an atheist before she even knew the word.
She brought her head up again to the people surrounding the coffin. The people who knew him personally were speaking about him now.
She tried to stop them from attacking her brain with traumatic events, but couldn't. The memories came anyway, mostly of the events that had occurred about five days ago.
That morning, five days ago, Elphaba Thropp was woken up by a scream. Not just any scream though, a bloodcurdling Oh-my-gosh-somebody's-died scream. A very accurate description for it, as that morning Frexpar Thropp was found dead in his bed by a maid. He had a heart attack in the night, apparently.
She would always remember the scream; it was haunting and made her chill to the bone. She would always remember another maid, white as a sheet, bringing a confused Nessa to her bedroom and locking the door. She would always remembered that same maid, her face even whiter if possible, telling the sisters that their father had died in the night. She would always remember comforting Nessa, who was crying as if there were no tomorrow.
She would always remember the eerie silent conviction that would follow her for days to come.
The feeling of guilt, of shock. Somehow her logic reasoned was that it was her fault, because she couldn't do anything to stop it.
Even if only for Nessa's sake.
Throughout the past four times she rarely spoke, rarely showed any emotion at all. Everyone was baffled by the lack of grief she showed regarding the death of her father.
There was no emotion to show really; she wasn't sad, she wasn't happy. Some anger lingered, but not enough to show on her face.
She didn't even show any emotion when she was told that in her father's will it stated that Nessa would live with their Great-Aunt, while Elphaba was to be put in a specific orphanage in the Emerald City.
No surprises there.
Nessa had pitched a fuss of course, whining to the judge about any way this could be changed. Whether she still wanted Elphaba around as a servant or a sister wasn't clear, but the judge had said that Frex had made it clear that Elphaba was to go to the orphanage, no matter what.
It was still a wonder how she didn't end up there when she was still a baby.
The funeral was over now. It had also stopped raining finally. People were filing out of the cemetery, but the Thropp sisters stayed. No words were exchanged except for Nessa requesting a rose to place on Frex's grave like the people had done just before the funeral was over.
The wheelchair-bound girl was handed the rose and while crying silent tears, threw the flower into the grave.
"Good-bye Papa. I'll miss you forever." She continued to sniffle, until someone, probably a relative of sorts, came back into the cemetery to fetch them.
"Come along Nessa-dearie, wouldn't want you to get a chill." She smiled at the girl, before turning sharply to her sister.
"You too, Elphaba. The carriage is waiting." She said this coldly to the green girl before wheeling Nessa out of the cemetery.
Elphaba paid no mind to this; she knew well that the carriage that would be taking her to the orphanage was waiting, as well as the fact that the Thropp family could not wait to be rid of her.
She had unfinished business though. She had finally found an answer to the question she had been pondering throughout the whole service.
Yes. It was wrong to not cry at one's own father's funeral.
But not if her wasn't a father to you in the first place.
She wordlessly picked up the last rose and tore off the flower bud, leaving only the thorny stem. She then threw the stem into the grave.
"Good riddance." She whispered before running of the ceremony and to say her last goodbyes to her sister.
A/N: I have a pretty good idea where this is going, so updates should be fairly quick. After all it is ski week next week, so I really have no excuse to not update.